


The Warmest Place Is By Your Side

by pkmnshippings



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Gift Fic, Komi is a Gossip, M/M, Merry Christmas Marie!, Secret Santa, Secret Santa Fic, a lot of fluff, a lot of fried chicken, like a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 21:31:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9031385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pkmnshippings/pseuds/pkmnshippings
Summary: Konoha and Komi have a Christmas Eve tradition of making fun of other couples.This year, however, they decide to stop putting off the inevitable.Featuring the Biggest Gossip Komi Haruki, and our favourite Jack-Of-All-Trades Konoha Akinori.~My secret santa fic for Marie!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [konokomi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/konokomi/gifts).



> hello, i'm back!
> 
> i'm bringing the fluff for christmas! i know i owe a lot of people a lot of updates, but life kicked my ass and the past few months have been really wild and tough. a lot of good things have happened, but at my core i've been sad, stressed, and so so tired. The Collective have been amazing, always happy to hear from me, and I owe them so much - they've helped me more than I could ever explain. I was so grateful to be able to participate in the Secret Santa, writing this made me so happy!
> 
> So, my dearest Marie, this fic goes out to you! I hope you like your konokomi fluff ~

It’s Christmas Eve, and Haruki is whistling tunelessly as he walks towards Akinori’s house. He has a bucket of KFC fried chicken under his arm, and the key to Akinori’s house swinging from the pointer finger of his other hand.

He makes quick work of heading to his best friend’s house, and a short while later he’s in front of the door, unlocking it and stepping inside.

“I’m here!” He calls out, too familiar with Akinori to bother with any formalities. He tugs his shoes off and leaves them by the door, before heading through the house in the direction of Akinori’s answering shout.

Akinori is sat on the sofa, legs sprawled out, though he swings his feet down to the floor when he sees Haruki. He’d grown his hair out since high school and it falls past his shoulders now, though Akinori has it pulled back tonight, only a few stray strands falling into his face. Haruki’s eyes linger on them for only a moment too long, before he pulls his gaze away and steps fully into the room.

“I brought fried chicken,” Haruki says, dropping the bucket into Akinori’s lap and falling into the now empty space beside him. 

Akinori frowns at the food, and keeps frowning, long enough for Haruki to make himself comfortable, get bored, and start poking Akinori’s face with his toe.

“What’s the matter with you?” He asks. “Is this chicken not up to standard, Your Highness?”

This, at least, elicits a response, and Akinori moves his gaze from the bucket of fried chicken to glare at Haruki.

“What does that even – don’t call me that. Anyway, I thought I was the one bringing the chicken this year.”

Haruki grinned. “Maybe. But you can never have too much fried chicken.”

“I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

“Nope!” Haruki beams when Akinori retrieves his own bucket from the floor, bouncing a little in place. Akinori glances over at him and rolls his eyes when he sees his best friend’s expression – a delightful combination of mischief and joy.

“Let me guess,” he says, handing Haruki the second bucket of chicken. “You have gossip.”

Haruki scoffs. “I don’t just have _gossip,_ Akinori, I have the best gossip of the whole year. This is hands-down the biggest, most exciting piece of news I could have found out, and-”

“Oh my god, please stop bragging about it and tell me,” Akinori interrupts, one hand covering his eyes. “I don’t think I can listen to this all night.”

“Don’t even try and pretend you’re not as big a gossip as I am,” Haruki shoots back. He waits a moment longer, until Akinori looks ready to start pushing him again, and then the words fall out of him in a rush. “Koutarou and Keiji are engaged!”

There’s a beat of total silence, and then Akinori is scrambling upright, almost sending the bucket on his lap tumbling to the floor. 

“No _way,”_ he says, wide-eyed, and Haruki leans back, revelling in the feeling of being the one totally in the know. God, it never got old.

“Yep. I bumped into them when I was getting the chicken, and even though Keiji was obviously trying to keep it a secret-”

“You found out anyway,” Akinori finishes for him, laughing slightly. “Damn, Haruki, what did you do to get that out of him?”

“He was wearing gloves, but I could see a lump over his left ring finger,” Haruki explained.

“So what? That could have been anything.”

Haruki shrugs, grinning. “I knew Keiji would never tell me what it was outright. So I just shouted across to Koutarou and asked if he’d proposed.”

Akinori laughs properly this time, and Haruki feels strangely triumphant for it. 

“Don’t tell me,” he wheezes. “That you actually asked Bokuto Koutarou if he’d proposed in the middle of a KFC.”

“Damn right.”

 _”God,”_ Akinori breaks off into completely unrestrained laughter, during which Haruki steals some of the juicier pieces of chicken from the bucket on his lap. “God,” he says again once he’s calmed down. “I bet Keiji _loved_ that.”

Haruki smiles, a little wickedly. “He _hated_ it. I think he wanted to kill me. It was great, he’s hardly ever so worked up.”

Akinori’s eyes flicker down to his mouth once and then back to his eyes, so quick Haruki could almost believe he’d imagined it. 

“So?” Akinori asks. “What did our beloved former captain tell you?”

“Well, he shouted yes from the other side of the room,” Haruki stifles laughter at the memory of Koutarou lighting up and yelling, while Keiji turned an interesting shade of red. “And once he got over to where we were standing, he told me _every_ detail about how the proposal went down. Totally pink in the cheeks as well.”

“How sickening,” Akinori says, shuddering.

“Disgusting,” Haruki agrees. “He was smiling even wider than normal the entire time.”

“And Keiji?” Akinori asks.

Once upon a time, back in high school, Haruki would have hesitated to tell Akinori anything about Keiji’s love life. His best friend had crushed on their setter for quite a while, and it had caused him a fair few heartbreaks. But now, Haruki knew that was in the past, and so he didn’t skip a beat before replying.

“Bright red, but he had the most lovesick expression I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s nauseating,” Akinori says, and there’s no trace of jealousy in his tone. Haruki takes slightly more comfort from that than he should.

“The proposal was a mess too. Koutarou asked him by _accident.”_

Akinori snorts. “That sounds like Koutarou.”

Haruki shakes his head. “As my best friend, I’m begging you. Please make sure I never do anything so embarrassing to my future partner.”

For a moment, Akinori’s expression tightens, but it’s wiped away almost as quickly as it appears. “Sure thing,” he says, and then, “have you heard about Kuroo and Kenma?”

 _“No,”_ Haruki gasps, leaning forward. “What about them?”

The next hour passes like this, as it has done every Christmas Eve since their first year of high school. Haruki and Akinori exchange gossip and poke fun at their friends’ relationships, eat fried chicken, and resolutely refuse to talk about their own single status. 

They’re 24 now, and fully immersed in life as adults, but Haruki still takes comfort in moments like this, little moments with Akinori that have stayed the same even as everything else has changed around them.

They move closer and closer together as they talk and laugh. At some point Akinori fetches some sake, and the drink sings warm and sweet in their veins, pushing them ever closer. In the quiet warmth of Akinori’s front room, they both forget to think about what it could mean.

After a while, Akinori leans back, a lazy smile on his face. “I made brownies yesterday,” he says, “Do you want one?” Haruki raises an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make them,” he admits, eyes following the plane of Akinori’s body as he stands.

“Aiko-san from work gave me a recipe,” Akinori says. “I tried it out, and they turned out alright.”

Haruki grins. “There he is ladies and gentlemen, Mr Jack-of-all-trades Konoha Akinori!”

“My god, you’re a prick,” Akinori huffs, but his tone is so fond that Haruki can only smile as he watches his best friend disappear into the kitchen. “Pick a movie!” He calls back over his shoulder.

Haruki obediently sinks to his knees and crawls over to the drawer where Akinori’s DVDs are kept. He runs his fingers along them gently, trying to choose, but his mind keeps getting pulled back to his encounter with his old teammates earlier.

_“Please don’t tell anyone from the rest of the team about this,” Keiji said, once Koutarou had finished his exuberant re-enactment of his proposal. “We wanted to tell you all together after Christmas.”_

_Haruki waved a hand in the air. “I won’t tell anyone. Well, only Akinori, but he can keep a secret too.”_

_Keiji sighed in resignation, and then fixed Haruki with a look that made him freeze in place._

_“I won’t meddle in your romantic life, Haruki-san, but don’t you think you’d both be happier if you just admit your feelings for each other?”_

“Stupid Keiji,” Haruki mutters, pulling the copy of _Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence_ into his lap. As if he needs a reminder about the painful lack of a relationship between himself and Akinori.

Haruki has known about his feelings for Akinori for a long time, and long since accepted them. And at times it almost seems like Akinori feels the same way. But Haruki has never been _sure,_ and he isn’t certain he has it in him to chance it, at the risk of ruining what they already have.

But Keiji’s words won’t leave him alone. They’ve both been single for such a long time, and Haruki knows he’s happiest when he’s with Akinori. There’s a large part of him that just aches to be with his best friend, and now he can’t stop thinking about the possibility of reciprocation. 

After all, Keiji had said that they’d _both_ be happier. That could only mean that Akinori felt the same way, couldn’t it?

Frustrated, Haruki clicks his tongue and firmly pushes the thoughts to one side. Keiji may be one of the smartest people he knew, but that didn’t mean he was always right.

When Akinori returns, the menu of the movie is already on the screen and Haruki has returned to his seat, praying that nothing in his expression will give away what he was thinking. From the smile on Akinori’s face, it seems he’s gotten away with it. Haruki relaxes, ever so slightly, and ignores the skip of his heartbeat when Akinori settles closely beside him.

“Okay, try it,” Akinori says, handing Haruki a plate. Haruki does as he’s told and takes a bite, aware of Akinori watching him. The brownie is nice, though Haruki has had better. It’s so painfully Akinori, good-but-nothing-to-shout-about, that Haruki wants to cry.

“It’s nice,” he tells his friend, and something in his chest lightens at the smile that crosses Akinori’s features. 

God, thinking about what Keiji had said had really been a mistake.

Akinori picks up the remote and presses play, nudging his feet underneath Haruki’s legs to keep them warm. Haruki can feel the press of Akinori’s legs where they touch his own, and he idly thinks that his own mind might drive him crazy before the night is over.

It seems, however, that Akinori is not content to let that happen.

The movie has barely started when he shifts in place, turning to face Haruki instead of the screen. Haruki glances over at him, but doesn’t say anything, waiting for Akinori to say whatever was on his mind.

A few more moments pass, and Haruki is starting to consider prompting his friend to speak when Akinori opens his mouth.

“Haruki,” he starts, “earlier, I told you I’d stop you from doing something embarrassing to your future partner.”

“Yes,” Haruki agrees slowly, unsure of where Akinori could be going. “Do you want to take that back? Is this you telling me you want to see me make a fool of myself?”

Akinori smiles, just slightly, but then it fades into a more nervous look. Haruki frowns, feeling tension take hold of him in response.

“I do…I do want to take it back…Haruki, what if I told you that I don’t want to be the one stopping you from embarrassing your future partner?”

Haruki’s heart is pounding. He’s utterly lost. “Akinori, what do you mean? Are you, like, friend-breaking up with me or something?”

Akinori makes a frustrated sound in the back of his throat and grabs his glass of sake, knocking the rest back in one gulp. Liquid courage. Haruki isn’t sure he’s still breathing.

 _“No,_ don’t be ridiculous, Haruki. I just…”

Akinori trails off, staring into his empty glass.

Haruki waits, his heart in his throat, until Akinori looks up and straight into his eyes.

“What if I told you that _I_ want to be your future partner?”

Haruki’s heart stops, and then begins to beat into overdrive. He feels like his ears are ringing as his mind attempts to process what he’s just heard, because, _no way._ There’s no way that Akinori just confessed to him, right after he’d been thinking about how hopeless his feelings were. It couldn’t be possible.

Except it was possible, and it had just happened, and _God,_ Haruki has to _say something._

“Yes,” he squeaks, and then mentally curses, because that made no sense and now he was just making an idiot of himself. 

_This is only one of the most important moments of your young life, Haruki,_ his mind helpfully supplies. _Don’t fuck it up._ He clears his throat and tries again.

“If you mean that, Akinori,” Haruki starts, proud that his voice only trembles a little under the weight of Akinori’s gaze. “Then I would be yours in a _heartbeat.”_

The air seems to leave Akinori in a rush, and the next thing Haruki knows he has a lapful of his best friend, the sake glass is tumbling to floor, and _oh._

Akinori’s lips are so warm against his own.

Haruki takes a moment to process, and then his body melts against Akinori’s, and he’s pressing up to kiss back. It’s messy and at the wrong angle, as first kisses often are, but Haruki is content all the same. He’s wanted this for so long. Nothing can ruin it.

Or at least, nothing except Akinori pulling back. Haruki makes a frustrated noise – okay, he whines – and tries to chase after Akinori’s lips, but the taller male puts a hand on his chest to hold him at bay.

“Hey, hold on,” he’s smiling as widely as Koutarou had smiled earlier, and Haruki privately thinks that it’s extremely unfair. “At least let me ask you properly.”

Haruki buries his face in his hands, hiding his blush. “I can’t believe, after all the mocking we’ve done tonight, that you’re actually going to be this sappy right now.”

Akinori laughs. “Come on, this is really long overdue. Let me have this.”

Haruki holds his hands over his face a moment longer, and then caves and removes them. Akinori’s lips quirk a little higher.

“Haruki, even though you gossip about everyone and tease me almost endlessly, it seems that I love you all the same,” Akinori is definitely enjoying Haruki’s discomfort at having such blatant affection directed his way, damn him. “So, will you be my boyfriend?”

Haruki can’t bear it under those eyes any longer, so he pulls Akinori down for another kiss, longer this time. When they break apart, Haruki’s heart is pounding, and Akinori looks a little dazed. They’re both panting, breath hot against each other’s lips.

“Yes,” Haruki answers. “I meant it, Akinori.”

“I’m yours.”

~

Three hours and countless kisses later finds them still curled up together, Haruki sprawled in Akinori’s lap, with Akinori’s hand drawing idle circles on his bicep.

“People will gossip about us now,” Akinori says, voice sleepy and soft. “It’s karma coming back to get you.”

Haruki astounds himself with how much he doesn’t care. But here, in Akinori’s arms, he can’t bring himself to spare even a single thought on what other people might say. Haruki twists around to look Akinori in the eyes, and his hands slide up slowly to cup Akinori’s cheeks. He grins as he watches a flush spread over the warm skin between his palms.

“Let them,” Haruki’s eyes flicker to the clock on the wall, the numbers ticking over to read 0:00am. “Merry Christmas, Akinori,” he whispers, and closes the distance between them.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it Marie <3 i thought komi being super embarrassed about affection was hilarious, and i hope you liked it too!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! as ever, my tumblr is pkmnshippings! i have twitter now too, also pkmnshippings! feel free to hit me up whenever ~
> 
> Merry Christmas everyone!


End file.
